Ch.234The Three Clans (1)

As expected, Lucilla was not pleased with this matter.

Llewellyn sensed a darkness from his sister—who expressionlessly cautioned him not to get hurt—that he had never felt before, a darkness this world called extinction.

A sister ready to burn the world for her brother.

A human willing to do anything for love.

In truth, most humans were like that, but Lucilla’s immense power made it all the more pronounced.

Llewellyn had to convince his sister.

That he needed to do this now to ensure his safe return and, more importantly, a happy future.

To make Llewellyn’s absurd plan succeed, they couldn’t just rush into it haphazardly. Every preparation was necessary, and every step had to be followed properly.

Otherwise, the already slim chances would become even slimmer. That’s why Llewellyn chose to head to the sky fortress with the Empress.

Leaving was easier than expected, thanks to Melody, who had been with them until just moments ago and who, despite her anxious expression, had helped restrain Lucilla.

Llewellyn flew through the boundless cosmic frontier where night and day ceased to exist.

The Empress’s wings fluttered. Dragon-like wings with membranes flapped ceaselessly, guiding Llewellyn toward what looked like a fruit hanging on a distant branch.

‘So the fortress… was a fruit of Netel.’

A fact so absurd that he had to mull it over repeatedly. Llewellyn now understood why not a single human had ever found or encountered the Three Clans in all this time.

It made sense that approach was one-sided. Even Valterok would have found it impossible to locate the exact position in this vast sky, at such a lofty height.

Llewellyn clicked his tongue but steeled his resolve.

They gradually drew closer. The fruit was such a deep purple that it appeared almost black.

The surface approached. From a distance, its size had been difficult to gauge, but as they neared, he could vaguely estimate it.

‘It’s about the size of the Pantheon.’

Considering that the one who created this or guided its creation was “Father,” this made sense.

‘Though I don’t understand why he didn’t use the Pantheon and made this instead.’

He figured there must be a reason. Even as he pondered this, Llewellyn looked at the smiling Empress with her back to the windless sky.

“We’re almost there. Have you thought of something?”

At the Empress’s words, Llewellyn rolled his eyes.

‘Thoughts, indeed.’

He recalled what the Empress had said before. Faintly, but clearly… she had tested him.

Moreover, she had mentioned that the Three Clans were in a cold war. At the time, he couldn’t even guess the reason, but now he had a vague understanding.

It was surely because of the division between the Empress who served Netel but wasn’t loyal, someone who both served and was loyal to Netel, and those who neither served Netel nor followed anyone but “Father.”

“Who are the fundamentalists?”

A smile appeared on the Empress’s face. With a pleased expression, as if delighted by his growth, she replied:

“That would be the Court Count.”

Court Count. Llewellyn glanced at Lorian, who became uncomfortable and pretended to look at the distant horizon.

It was clear. As he had vaguely heard, the Court Count was both the head of the Blood Knights and the first Blood Knight, as well as the leader of the Blood Clan.

And since all Blood Clan members were modeled after him, Llewellyn could guess where Lorian’s knightly temperament came from.

‘If what the Empress says is true, that is.’

He wasn’t sure if this information was reliable. He didn’t know how much the Empress understood before speaking.

But he had no better information. With the mindset of using whatever was available, Llewellyn set his jaw firmly.

The “fruit” gradually came closer until it was within reach. At first, he thought they would land, but…

No. The Empress didn’t even decelerate. Though she gave the impression she could slow down as easily as if by magic.

Llewellyn knew what was about to happen.

The Empress, who had been flying at ultra-high speed, suddenly folded her wings. She wrapped them around her body like a cocoon or armor, with Llewellyn and Lorian enclosed within.

THWACK!

A sound similar to their initial takeoff echoed across the spread wings.

Llewellyn instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, wondering why armor hadn’t appeared on his body, and forced himself to keep them open.

The Empress moved like a spinning bullet. Literally, she rotated as she pierced through the outer wall of the sky fortress and landed.

He heard the sound of scattering debris and gasps of fear. Noises between the thunderous sounds that only Llewellyn’s keen hearing, far beyond human capability, could distinguish.

As soon as the Empress’s wings unfurled, Llewellyn assessed the situation.

“E-Empress? Why…?!”

A group of people surrounded the Empress, stammering in surprise.

Their hair was snow-white, their skin just as pale.

Their eyes were red, with numerous strangely bloodshot pupils.

Llewellyn glanced at Lorian beside him.

They resembled her. Without a doubt. Llewellyn stepped out of the Empress’s embrace and stood on his own two feet, only to flinch as all eyes turned to him.

‘…I thought I’d gotten used to it.’

Apparently not. Llewellyn realized that his year of living as a blood bag wasn’t so easily erased.

But he had to suppress even those emotions for what needed to be done. Llewellyn faced the countless gazes of the Blood Clan members fixed on him after he descended from the Empress’s embrace.

“Did you intend to land here?”

“My grandson wanted to meet the fundamentalists, didn’t he? So I dropped us right in the middle. Lightly. Tap.”

Though she chuckled, she was a dangerous woman. Llewellyn kept his guard up against her as he surveyed the crowd.

The area where Llewellyn, the Empress, and Lorian had broken through was gradually being repaired. Being Netel’s power, the restoration was fully automatic.

It wasn’t an interior building, but that could be fixed with manpower if needed. After confirming that nothing like blood was flowing from the building the Empress had crushed, Llewellyn spoke.

“Pleased to meet you.”

The place where Llewellyn now stood felt like the outskirts of a city. Wide roads stretched between sparsely placed buildings, and the neatness and cleanliness of these roads rivaled those of modern cities.

It had the orderly beauty characteristic of a planned city. Llewellyn observed this order while looking at the Blood Clan members.

Their attire was similar. Unlike what Lorian wore, they had on elaborate yet structured uniforms reminiscent of Renaissance-era attire.

Though they weren’t a species with distinct genders, it was impressive how they dressed appropriately for what appeared to be male or female appearances.

‘Most look androgynous and wear pants uniforms.’

Their appearance seemed to confirm their fundamentalist nature. Llewellyn faced the Blood Clan in a relaxed stance.

“My name is Llewellyn.”

The Blood Clan members, who had been wary yet puzzled, suddenly recoiled in horror, wariness, and hostility. Lorian sighed behind him, but Llewellyn believed this was the right approach.

Of course, he could have pretended to be Father if he wanted, but he felt that would be wrong.

After all, Llewellyn wasn’t Father, and never would be.

But he was certainly a “new entity” that could replace Father.

Llewellyn gazed at the Blood Clan members who were warily preparing to use blood magic against him.

“You probably all know me. You likely consider me the escaped blood bag, the one who despicably converted the proud Blood Knight Lorian, and repeatedly interfered with the events of the Blood Clan and the Three Clans.”

Llewellyn said this while looking at his reputation status, which hadn’t changed for a long time. Perhaps because it had shown high accuracy from the beginning, no one responded to his words.

“Llewellyn, rather…”

Even Lorian tried to stop him from behind. Llewellyn extended his hand to reassure her and stepped forward instead.

As Llewellyn stepped forward, the Blood Clan members stepped back. He spoke to them with as much emotional restraint as possible, conveying only the truth.

“That’s true. I deliberately, and sometimes inevitably, interfered with what you were doing.”

“Did you come to apologize, blood bag? Then…”

“No. I have no intention of apologizing.”

The Blood Clan member’s face contorted with anger as his words were cut off, but Llewellyn felt no threat.

If it came to a fight, the odds would be in Llewellyn’s favor, as long as the Empress didn’t side with them.

She wouldn’t do that, as it would mean failing to recruit him.

‘Power doesn’t solve everything.’

So Llewellyn held back and said:

“Even if I could turn back time and return to that moment, I would act exactly the same way.”

Or perhaps he hadn’t held back much after all.

As the Blood Clan members progressively displayed their discomfort, Llewellyn blocked Lorian with his arm as she tried to step forward to speak in his place.

“What do you think is the reason?”

A question not easily answered.

It was unclear why they asked, what answer they wanted, or what else to say.

In that silence, Llewellyn spoke with conviction:

“Because the Blood Clan, no, the Three Clans, are clearly on the wrong path.”

“…The wrong path?”

A male Blood Clan member—or at least one who appeared male with an androgynous appearance—questioned.

He tilted his head with furrowed red eyes.

“I heard from the Empress that this place has been unsettled recently, and that you’re in a cold war.”

The Blood Clan’s gazes all turned to the Empress, but she didn’t even care.

That was the kind of being she was. Even if they attacked her, she wouldn’t bat an eye.

Knowing this, Llewellyn comfortably shifted the responsibility to her, and the Empress accepted her “grandson’s” imposition with a slight smile.

That alone made it clear. The Blood Clan still didn’t understand and looked puzzled.

What was his intention in coming here? What was he saying now?

Why had the Empress brought this abominable blood bag here?

Unable to understand, they couldn’t act, and because they couldn’t act, they lost the initiative.

“Do you know the reason for this cold war?”

“I heard there’s a power struggle over how to lead the clan in the future, due to resource shortages and the emergence of threats like you…”

“That’s wrong.”

As the Blood Clan man who had stepped forward closed his mouth, Llewellyn spoke firmly, with conviction.

“The cold war began because a clan serving an Transcendent other than Father revealed their true colors.”

As the Empress had told him, and as Lorian had shown in her usual conduct.

The Blood Clan was a fundamentalist group, and the Court Count, head of the Blood Knights, was a severe “Father believer.”

“The Necromancers actively serve another Transcendent and are planning for the future. They’ve thrown away everything they’ve believed in and pursued, desperately clinging to survival and forgetting who they are.”

If the Empress served Netel without being loyal, then the Necromancers must be the faction that both served and was loyal to Netel.

A cold war is only possible when forces are evenly divided. It occurs when the balance of power is so equal that they can’t rashly fight each other.

If two or more factions served Father, or if two or more served and were loyal to Netel, it couldn’t happen.

That’s why Llewellyn believed the forces must be divided into exactly three, and he was right.

“The Empress here and the Shapeshifters have come to serve a new Transcendent but aren’t loyal. They weren’t sure if that was truly the right path.”

Here, a bit of falsehood mixed in.

The Empress probably served but wasn’t loyal to Netel out of simple interest, or because she wanted chaos, or perhaps because she wanted something interesting to happen.

But Llewellyn fabricated even that.

“It’s understandable. ‘Father’ has ascended and hasn’t returned, and he still shines indifferently in the sky above, perversely only commemorating and lamenting human deaths while bestowing power.”

Not even the sound of breath being drawn could be heard. Llewellyn felt countless red eyes of the Blood Clan fixed on him.

In this situation, one wrong word could cause them all to pounce on him.

But Llewellyn didn’t hesitate. He had recently realized that momentum was essential for persuasion.

“Necromancers seeking a new way to survive because ‘Father’ doesn’t care for them, Shapeshifters unsure if that’s the right path, and the Blood Clan pledging loyalty despite knowing he won’t look back.”

When Llewellyn clapped his hands, the sound echoed loudly. He didn’t miss the moment when the hostility in the Blood Clan’s gazes very slightly diminished.

“Is it right to fight with divided positions like this? Is it acceptable for family who have shared a single goal for so long to kill each other?”

These beings had a sense of community.

“So I’ll say it again.”

Llewellyn dug into that consciousness.

“My name is Llewellyn. I am the caretaker of the Pantheon, a homunculus created in imitation of ‘Father’s’ body.”

He placed his hand on his chest. He wasn’t wearing armor. It meant this wasn’t combat. No one harbored hostility. The divinity nestled in his heart uncoiled and radiated outward in concentric circles.

The Blood Clan members startled and retreated, but then froze as they felt the divinity brushing against their bodies.

“I have inherited ‘Father’s’ qualification and stand before you now.”

Their gazes turned blankly toward Llewellyn. Both words and evidence flickered before their eyes. Llewellyn proudly declared to these Blood Clan members:

“I have come to end the cold war among the Three Clans and bring peace.”